Absent Friends
by groundcontroltomajortom
Summary: Two days after the events of Nemesis, Picard hosts the weekly Poker game. The evening is thrown into chaos when an uninvited guest arrives.
1. Prologue

Absent Friends

**Disc: I do not own Star Trek, nor have I made any money from this.**

_A/N: I have read some but not all of the TNG continuation novels following Nemesis so if there are any glaring errors, please feel free to point them out and I will correct them._

Two days. It was precisely two days to the minute. The emergency transport unit was on his bedside table. Jean-Luc found himself staring at it.

He climbed out of his chair and poured himself another glass of _Chateau Picard_. Robert had given him four cases as a birthday present ten years ago. The first case had lasted until six months ago. The second had lasted 48 hours.

The crew held a wake at Ten Forward the previous evening before Riker and Troi departed for the _Titan_. Will had played _Blue Skies _on the trombone. Jean-Luc attempted a piece on his flute that Data had composed but got a few of the notes wrong. He accepted the sympathetic applause with a smile. Once the rest of the crew had been shown out by Guinan, Picard was, for the last time, surrounded by the senior officers whom he had shared his life with these last fifteen years.

'To Data,' he said.

'To Data,' the others replied quietly.

'To Tasha.'

'To Tasha.'

Picard bit his lower lip as a stray tear fell from his right eye. Deanna moved to comfort him but he waved her away. He composed himself.

'I know that all things change. All of you are moving on to brighter prospects and I cannot begrudge you that. I only ask that we all raise our glasses once more, for the final time together, to the _Enterprise.'_

'The _Enterprise_.'

Five minutes later, Worf opened the first bottle of bloodwine. It was at this point that Picard's memory of the evening stopped, restarting only when he woke in his quarters this morning, feeling as if his head was about to explode.

That was twelve hours ago. He had spent his day saying goodbyes to Will, Deanna and Beverly. Even Worf was due to go on leave tomorrow. They had shared a brief discussion about the plasma relays earlier in which the Klingon had clearly been repressing a smirk. Jean-Luc had a vague recollection of roaring out a drinking song with his new first officer the previous night.

He would soon get a chance to ask him about it. The intercom chimed.

'Come,' Picard said.

Geordi entered.

'Am I on time?'

'When are you not, Geordi?'

The Chief Engineer smiled, though it fell quite a long way short of his eyes. He opened his poker set, laying out the chips at the centre of the table. Picard worked around him, pulling up a chair for himself and two others. He had tried to make his quarters less Spartan over the last few years, partly to accommodate for greater activity in his social life.

The intercom chimed again.

'Enter,' the Captain said.

Worf walked through the doors. His face bore a fresh scar on his right cheek which was clearly the work of a Bat'leth.

'That looks painful, Worf,' Geordi commented.

'It is nothing. I was re-enacting the Battle of Moklat on the holodeck.'

'I hope you were on the winning side,' Picard added.

Worf merely nodded in reply, lowering himself quickly into his chair. He folded his arms. On another day, Jean-Luc would have tried to make light of it but today he merely sat down opposite.

'Ok, so, five card stud tonight I think,' Geordi said.

'Yes and I will deal unless anyone has any objections?' Picard replied.

Geordi shook his head. Worf remained utterly still, his eyes glazed. He had been the last to say farewell to Will and Deanna and it was clear that the parting had not gone according to his expectations.

Picard dealt their hands in silence.

'I'm in for 10,' Geordi said.

'Likewise,' the Captain replied.

Worf inspected his face down card.

'Yes,' he said, throwing a chip into the centre.

Jean-Luc looked at his two friends. None of them were willing to admit it, but their minds were not on the game. There had been seven of them at this table the previous week.

'You know gentlemen, we could always postpone until next week,' he suggested.

Geordi was about to reply when a white flash of light materialized into a brown haired man in a Starfleet captain's uniform. He had appeared in a chair in one of the previously unoccupied spaces on the table and he bore an expression that was all too familiar to Picard.

'Q. To what do we do we owe the pleasure?' the Captain asked.

Q did not answer immediately. He swung his feet up onto the table. Worf was clenching his fists behind his back with such strength that his fingernails were digging into his palms. Geordi merely rubbed his forehead in disbelief. He had spent an extraordinarily long day in the Jeffries Tubes working off his hangover. It now appeared that the night could be even longer.

'Yes, I know Jean-Luc, why am I here? You know you really should see yourselves, wracked by dismay over the loss of a talking circuit board.'

'I don't have time for this,' Geordi said, turning to leave.

'I think you would if you knew why I was here,' Q continued.

Geordi sat down. He had enough experience of Q to know that he had little choice but to humour him. Even Worf had learned to keep his counsel around the entity.

'How long has it been, Jean-Luc?' Q asked.

'Not long enough.'

'Oh, don't be so cruel.'

'State your business.'

Q clicked his fingers. Data appeared in his place at the table.

'My business is, to become more human. To learn, to evolve, to adapt...'

Geordi lifted up the table, throwing it at Data. He caught it and placed it back down. He clicked his fingers, to become Q once again.

'A bit too much?' Q asked.

The others merely stared at him. Q had never learned to appreciate the finer points of tact. He reflected that omnipotence did not really lend itself to the development of such a quality.

'I am here to show you something important. Well, it's important to you mortals with your dull concept of linear time.'

Q yawned.

'Get on with it,' Picard said.

'Very well, I am here to show you all of the opportunities you are about to miss. All of the mistakes you are about to make if you continue along your present course.'

'The future?' Geordi asked.

'The future, Mr. La Forge, and we will start with you.'


	2. Geordi

Absent Friends

Chapter 1

They appeared in a flat overlooking the New Berlin colony on The Moon. Having recovered from the displacement, Geordi glanced around, finding photos of himself with various dignitaries on every wall. He stopped for a moment to look upon a painting of the _Enterprise-E_ which took up the area overlooking his communication port.

Schematics of various engine parts covered his work station. There were numerous annotations on them which seemed to indicate that he was not entirely at ease with his initial work. Geordi was curious as to what that was, but he was unsure if he wanted to know too much. He had always found it pleasant to be surprised by new technologies.

'So, this is where I'm going to live?' he asked.

'Correct,' Q answered.

'A bit smaller than I'd hoped.'

Geordi started to look through the drawers of a desk which overlooked the main window. A shuttlecraft buzzed past not more than ten metres from where they were sat on its way to the centre of the colony. The flat had a full panoramic view from a hill overlooking the city, with the tall spire tower of the New Reichstag at its centre.

'Geordi, I wonder, would you rather have some privacy here?' Picard asked.

'No, Captain, please stay. I have no secrets from you or Worf.'

Neither of them were particularly comfortable with that, but Picard and Worf did as Geordi asked, taking a seat on two wicker chairs which seemed oddly out of place in this otherwise advanced flat. Picard lifted a label which was still attached to one of the arms. It read:-

_Dear Geordi, my father used to swear by these chairs. Then again, he also swore in them! Hope you are settling in ok. The barn is coming along well but I'd forgotten how much it rains back home. Come and visit us anytime you feel like it. Miles._

The presence of the chairs now made more sense to Picard. Chief O'Brien had always possessed a certain affection for antiques.

He heard an exclamation from the other side of the room. Geordi had found a holo stand in the drawer he had been looking through.

'Who could be on here?' he asked.

'It's your flat,' Q replied.

Geordi pressed the sides of the stand to retrieve the image.

'Wow,' he said.

The image it stored was of a version of himself, perhaps five or ten years older with a wife and three young children. They were in the midst of laughing.

'Leah, I knew I would get her in the end,' Geordi said.

'Yes, how touching,' Q responded.

He moved over towards one of the cupboards and keyed in an access code.

Geordi ignored him, checking the underside of the stand for a date and time the photo was taken.

'_The La Forge family_, photo taken on stardate 61004 by Worf, son of Mogh. Well, thanks Worf,' he said.

'Don't mention it,' Worf replied, his face a mask of confusion.

'What is it?'

'Well, I've never been thanked for something I haven't done yet before.'

Geordi laughed.

'Yeah, what about the timeline?'

'Oh, spare me! Must I explain this again? Nothing you do here will change anything. The Geordi La Forge who lives in this time will be completely unaware of your existence,' Q said.

Geordi's attention was caught by another picture frame. It contained a Starfleet badge at the top, a row of four pips in the middle and a small photo of Geordi being presented with a box by Picard at the bottom. He shook his head.

'I did not think I would make Captain.'

'It doesn't surprise me, Geordi,' Picard interjected.

A door opened behind them. Q had clearly found what he had been attempting to access. Geordi turned to face it with a sense of apprehension. His shoulders tightened. Q beckoned him through the door. Geordi and the others followed, reluctantly at first but with an increasing sense of calm. The steps downward led to a cellar lit by three banks of high powered halogen lights.

On a steel table in front of them, B4 was in the process of being disassembled. A version of Geordi around fifteen years older was attempting to adjust his positronic net. He worked furiously with a solder attempting to reattach the part he had removed. Judging from the scratch marks on the outer casing, it was not the first time he had tried. On the far side of the cellar were various attempts at a full re creation of the positronic net. The older Geordi clicked the part he had removed back into place, sighing with frustration.

'What are you doing?' B4 enquired upon waking.

'Nothing, I'm doing nothing,' the older Geordi replied, reaching for the off switch on B4's lower back.

B4 leaned forward, his power drained. The older Geordi laid him on his back on the steel table. He took a sip of coffee which, judging from his reaction had clearly turned cold. A loud ringing sound came from the main flat, prompting him to run up the stairs towards the source of it. The others followed swiftly behind him.

The communication port was in the process of opening a subspace channel. After twenty seconds, the face of Leah Brahms appeared on the screen.

'Hi, Geordi.'

'Hello, what can I do for you?'

'It's about the kids. They are on their way by shuttle and should be with you in a couple of days. The crèche are looking after them well.'

'Great, that's great. I look forward to it.'

'It's all they've been talking about all week.'

Leah offered a half-smile. Geordi leaned towards the screen.

'It's not too late to change your mind,' he said.

'Yes it is. I've got to go - work starts early. Hope you are well,' she replied, closing the channel abruptly.

The older Geordi was left staring at a blank screen. He clenched his fist and thumped it against the wall.

'Sad, isn't it?' Q said.

The younger Geordi could not bring himself to reply. Picard and Worf stood in silence behind him. They exchanged a look which confirmed their mutual anxiety.

Geordi once again started staring at his older self. That man had moved back to his work desk to add further annotations to his schematics. He did not move from his seat, his face fixed in the depths of intense concentration.

'All I have left is my work,' Geordi said.

'Indeed, and why do you think that is?' Q asked.

'I didn't make time for what was important. I kept trying with B4...'

'...you mean you drove your wife away through your refusal to accept Data's death.'

'Yeah. That sounds about right.'

Q shook his head slowly. He started walking around the perimeter of the flat.

'What you see on these walls are the images of your proudest achievements.'

Geordi looked around him. Every space was taken up with a holophoto of the _Enterprise_ or the crew as they had been since he was commissioned. Some earlier pictures of him on the _Hood _were present, but he was struck by the prevalence of images of Data and the others.

'There's almost nothing here I don't recognise,' he said.

'Yes, and what does that tell you about the next fifteen years?' Q asked.

Geordi looked towards the floor. He tried to respond but found he could not. Worf stood up and moved towards Q but Picard held out a hand to stop him.

'If this is Geordi's future then why ask these questions? It is pointless. You are pointless,' Worf said, spitting out the words.

'Oh, Worf, Worf, you must be patient. All will become when I next click my fingers.'

Q clicked his fingers and they were somewhere else entirely.


	3. Worf

Absent Friends 

Chapter 2

Picard immediately recognised the room in which they had arrived. The forbidding scent of the place indicated that they were on Qo'nos. He looked up to confirm that they were indeed standing in the great hall of the Klingon High Council. The lighting was limited in the area, a number of torches were in the process of being re-lit on the walls. A dead body lay at the centre of the room. Several council members grunted and shuffled away from it.

An older version of Worf appeared from the shadows, his _d'k tahg_ knife red with blood. He was breathing heavily.

'Well, Worf, it looks like you've killed another Klingon Chancellor. How many is that now?' Q asked.

The younger Worf moved to get a better view of the dead man. He did not recognise him.

'Most Klingons who've killed two Chancellors have something interesting like _The Usurper _or _The Cruel _after their names. I wonder whether you will share their fate,' Q said.

The older Worf walked slowly to the Chancellor's chair. A fellow council member handed him the bloodstained ceremonial cloak. He accepted it, his shoulders tensing as he gripped the arms of the chair.

'Since none of you have shown sufficient loyalty or courage to take the post of Chancellor. I have accepted it with the intention of ridding us of these traitors,' the older Worf said.

The other council members murmured in approval. They looked at each other for signs of hesitation.

'What is the prayer you utter before you go to sleep every night, Worf?' Q asked.

'_The Klefq'ijab_, a prayer for friends who no longer walk among us,' the younger Worf replied, puzzled at the question.

'Who is in your nightly prayer?'

'Mogh, Tasha, K'Ehleyr, Kurn, Jadzia and now Data.'

'A long list.'

The older Worf stood up from the chair.

'I know that many among you are already looking to replace me. It should be noted that any conspiracies will be met with the harshest punishment,' he said.

There were cheers at this announcement, though it was clear that in certain cases they rang false against the walls of the chamber. Worf raised his right hand to command silence.

'Today's demonstration proves that Martok did not die in vain. If there are any other members of the house who committed this crime still in hiding, they will be found and executed.'

The council members drove their staffs into the floor to show their approval. Worf led a chorus of a hunting song, which the others joined in with varying levels of enthusiasm. When they had finished, he commanded their silence once again.

'Today's session is over. All of you should go home and examine your priorities in the knowledge that you are all disposable,' the older Worf said.

After a brief pause in which the council members digested the meaning of those words, they gradually filed out of the great hall, leaving Worf standing quite alone next to the Chancellor's seat.

'So, what do you think?' Q asked.

'This is not my future,' Worf replied.

'I respectfully disagree. Perhaps when you add Martok to the end of your prayer you will understand.'

'I am not interested in power.'

'No you're not but you do desire revenge.'

The older Worf roared in the silence of the great hall. Those statues of great emperors past gave him no answer. He took off the cloak and threw it on the floor. A young retainer appeared from the shadows to remove it from his sight.

He walked into the Chancellor's office at the back of the hall. The others followed him. The office was a small room with a chair on each side of a central desk. This desk was covered with papers on houses that had been considered disloyal to the man Worf had killed. The older Worf picked up a padd which had information on the House of Martok and tossed it aside with contempt.

Picard moved out from where he had been stood behind the younger Worf.

'Enough of this, Q. This is not Worf. This man could not be Worf. He has no sense of honour or courage,' the Captain said.

'Everyone has their breaking point,' Q replied.

The older Worf played a communication from a few hours previous. On in, the voice of a brigadier who sounded strangely like his younger brother spoke in querulous tones. It was clear from Worf's reaction to the message that he had heard it previously.

'_It is now clear that the Ya'Vang has been lost with all hands, including weapons officer Alexander Rozhenko, son of Worf. Those loyal to House Martok have made all possible preparations to avenge this loss...'_

The rest of the message played out with the usual Klingon platitudes of bloody vengeance and swift destruction.

'That was your breaking point, Worf, just over 48 hours ago,' Q said.

The younger Worf approached Q. He grasped the entity by the neck. Q promptly turned himself into a beetle, scuttling to the other side of the room before reappearing in his usual form.

'Temper, temper Mr. Worf, you really must learn to control yourself,' he said.

'Even if Alexander were to die, I would not allow myself to become this wretch,' the younger Worf replied.

'Then, there is no purpose in remaining here. I hope that perhaps when you look back on this experience you realise what I was trying to tell you, Worf, though somehow I doubt your miniscule Klingon mind is up to it.'

Worf looked back at Picard and La Forge. Geordi shook his head. He was struggling to come to terms with Worf's future almost as much as his own. Picard stepped forward purposefully.

'This is a sham, Q, and the sooner you return us to the _Enterprise_ the better,' he said.

Q smiled. He wagged his finger at Picard.

'Surely you know me well enough by now.'

Q clicked his fingers. They appeared on a long, straight road lined on either side by tall sycamore trees. Picard could tell from the position of the sun that it was nearly midday.

'So, I'm sure you recognise this place, don't you Jean-Luc?' Q asked.

'La Barre,' Picard replied.

'Welcome home.'


	4. JeanLuc

Absent Friends

Chapter 3

The road led directly to the chateau that the Picard family had owned for five generations. Jean-Luc had expected to see the prim bushes and tall trees that lined his street, but he could already tell something was not right.

'What is this?' he asked

'Walk on a little and find out,' Q replied

For the time being, Geordi and Worf held back. Ahead of them, the vineyards were still clearly still in use, what was not clear was whether Jean-Luc had been tending to them himself.

As they walked into the vineyards, they found an older version of Picard crouched on the ground between the vines. He was weeping softly. Worf and Geordi both felt as though they were intruding on something private. The younger Picard knew that he never wept without good reason.

Q observed the Captain, noticing the slight flicker in his expression as he watched the older man in front of him. The vineyards were much as he remembered them. In fact, it seemed that they still had more than a touch of Robert's work about them. He wondered how long he had been back.

'What led me to this?' Picard asked.

'You are about to find out,' Q replied.

The older Picard got to his feet. He took his old Starfleet badge out of his pocket and placed it on his left breast, touching it to open a channel.

'Picard to _Titan_,' he said.

'Go ahead,' a familiar voice replied.

'Are you ready, Will?'

'We certainly are. Just give the word, Jean-Luc.'

'Stand by.'

The older Picard knelt next to an apple tree that stood at the far end of the vineyard. The others leaned over him to see what he was looking for. A simple plaque sat upon a post in the shade of the tree. It read:-

_Beverly Crusher_

_2324-2380_

The older man leaned closer to the plaque.

'Goodbye, for now.'

He stood up and walked away from the tree.

'Picard to _Titan_, energize,' the older man disappeared towards the ship orbiting the earth.

Q removed the others to the transporter room in which the older Picard had now arrived. He was greeted by a tall man with greying facial hair, who smiled upon seeing his guest. They shook hands warmly.

'Captain Riker, a pleasure as always,' Picard said.

'It's been too long, Captain. Welcome aboard,' Will replied.

They walked through the corridor towards the nearest turbo lift. The _Titan_ lived up to its name in terms of size, yet despite its fearsome reputation Riker seemed pre-occupied.

'If I might ask, Jean-Luc, what brings you here?' Will asked.

'Oh, it's more than a social call. I'm here to see Deanna,' Picard replied.

'Ah. I see. Well, when you're done we should have a drink. I have some Aldebaran Whiskey which has your name on it.'

Picard smiled ruefully. He knew that Guinan had probably let slip about that particular habit some time ago.

'Make it so, Will,' he said.

Riker returned his smile and turned off in the direction of the bridge. Picard continued to walk down the same corridor. The second to last door on his right was Deanna's office. He pressed to request entry.

'_Come in'_ a familiar voice replied over the intercom.

Picard entered the office. Deanna had furnished it in her usual scheme of calming colours and images. She stood up from her usual seat and walked over to greet Jean-Luc.

'Captain, it's good to see you,' she said.

'Likewise, Counsellor, and I appreciate you making the time to see me,' he replied.

Deanna nodded and attempted her most comforting smile. She looked down for a moment, clearly lost in thought.

'You remember what day it is then?' Picard asked.

'Of course,' she replied.

'Will seems to have forgotten.'

'He hasn't. He just doesn't want to think about it.'

Picard stood on the same spot for a long while before allowing himself to rest in the chair opposite Deanna's. The others observed this scene from behind them. Q made a mocking face of unhappiness which led Worf to utter a curse under his breath.

'It's been ten years. I don't really know why I'm still thinking about it,' the older Picard said.

'There's no shame in continuing to grieve for Beverly,' Deanna replied.

'I know.'

'So, what's troubling you, Jean-Luc?'

The older Picard took a moment to compose himself.

'It's not the grief. It's the guilt. The guilt of knowing that if I had acted more quickly...' he trailed off.

They both paused for a moment. Deanna walked to the replicator to order two cups of Earl Grey tea before resuming her seat.

'Thank you,' Picard said as he received the drink.

Deanna took a long draught of her drink.

'Jean-Luc, I can't advise you any further on this as a Counsellor. Can I talk to you as a friend for a moment?' she asked.

'Always,' Picard replied.

'Beverly told me about your experiences on KesPrytt. To an untrained empath, it must have been almost impossible to distinguish one thought from the next.'

'Yes, it was.'

'She told me sometime afterwards that she regretted the way she treated you following that incident,' Deanna added.

'She did? Well, it would have been useful to know that,' Picard replied finally.

They paused. The younger Picard walked around the perimeter of the office. The older version seemed tense, he was hunched over his arms in an almost meditative position. His eyes were ringed and hollow, the mark of long exhaustion. Deanna sat back, a picture of calm as always. Geordi and Worf were exchanging a whispered observation. The younger Picard wondered if they had spotted something different about him.

The _Titan_ jumped to warp at that moment. After the jarring impact of the inertial dampeners, the older Picard took an inward breath.

'First time in a while,' he said.

'I never really got used to it,' Troi replied.

'After all these years?'

'Yes, thank you for reminding me how old I am.'

They both smiled. The Counsellor was still much as she had once been, except perhaps a little more imposing in her bearing.

'You still have some way to go before you catch me,' Picard observed.

Troi sighed and leant forward slightly.

'Captain, I have met few people in my life who are more capable than you. There is still more than enough time to try something else,' she said.

'You don't think I enjoy the vineyard?' he asked.

'No, I didn't say that but La Barre connects you to almost every negative event or feeling in your life. Beverly is gone and lingering at home is not going to change that.'

Picard frowned. He finished his cup of tea and got off his chair, starting to walk rapidly towards the exit.

'Thank you for your time, Counsellor. If you need me, I will be having a drink with your husband,' he said as he left.

The doors closed behind him. Deanna put her head in her hands for a moment. She eventually stood up.

'Right,' she whispered to herself.

She paced around the perimeter of the room a few times before she started speaking.

'Computer, begin patient log subject Jean-Luc Picard. Stardate supplemental,' she said.

The computer beeped an affirmative.

'_Jean-Luc shows little outward sign of progress despite my repeated attempts to get him to create an action plan. He seems reluctant, even unwilling to move beyond his current circumstances and I am concerned that if nothing changes in the near future, he will spend the rest of his life in this state.'_

Deanna paused, crossing her arms.

'_I do not believe I can do anything more for him. It is now up to him to show that he is still the Jean-Luc Picard I used to know,' _she concluded.

The younger Picard watched this scene with increasing anxiety. He turned towards Q, who smiled benevolently, as if a master looking at his favourite pet. A mortarboard appeared on his head.

'So, now you see the connection - grief leads to inaction, inaction leads to grief. I think that concludes the lesson for today,' the entity said.

With a click of the fingers, they were returned to Picard's quarters on the _Enterprise-E_. Q leant over the poker table towards them.

'Now, remember what I said – that is what you face if you don't change your ways,' Q said.

Picard looked at Geordi and Worf, both wore wary expressions. They were clearly just as exhausted by the experience as he had been.

'Well, I have places to be gentlemen so I must rush but before I go there is something I must tell you, Jean-Luc,' he said.

He whispered in the Captain's right ear. Colour drained from Picard's face as he heard what Q told him. The entity clicked his fingers to move onto his next journey. Worf watched the Captain's reaction with mounting concern.

'Are you alright, sir?' he eventually asked.

'Oh, yes, I'm fine Mr. Worf,' Picard responded.

'What did he say to you?' Geordi asked.

'_Resistance is futile.'_


End file.
